


Strays

by Nyessa



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Dragon Age In-Universe Book: Hard in Hightown, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Mistress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-23
Updated: 2015-09-23
Packaged: 2018-04-23 00:37:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4856516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyessa/pseuds/Nyessa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>King Alistair Theirin returns home from Kirkwall with news of old friends for Warden-Commander Tia Brosca. </p><p>Set after Origins and Awakening, during Act 3 of Dragon Age II.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strays

**Author's Note:**

> "Strays" is a working title and is subject to change if I come up with anything even remotely better.

Everyone in the court sighed as the king bent over his queen's hand, brushed his lips against her knuckles, and looked up to seek her smile. She granted it, a small one, before he took the last two steps to join her on the dais. The royal pair were rarely known for dramatic, public displays of affection, but anyone who saw them stare into each other's eyes knew; this was True Love.

Tia hid a smile behind her armor and her office. She knew the stories as well as anyone—better, in fact. It had been inevitable, as destined as the dragons this age was named for, from the moment they laid eyes on each other. He had not been king, then, but there had been little question of what he would become. He was so like his brother in appearance, and equal in wisdom and maturity, that it was only natural the queen's love should transfer easily from the elder to the younger.

The only obstacle was her father, but he was a traitor to the crown and the one who had made his own daughter a widow so young. She had been freed from his tyrannical regency by his execution. Justice done.

Tia had known a spirit of Justice once. She had not asked his opinion on the matter, not that it could have changed anything if she had.

The announcement drew her out of her reverie: “Warden-Commander Brosca, Arlessa of Amaranthine, Hero of Ferelden.”

She stepped forward to the customary spot at the base of the dais and gave a short, military bow to the king and queen in turn. It was not the servile bow of a subject to her monarchs—in spite of her noble title, the Wardens did not bend (more than necessary) to any earthly government—but that of one power to another, a respected ally and friend. And if her bow to the queen was a hair's breadth lower than that to her consort, well, they three understood the meaning. Anyone watching could make their own interpretations.

“Your Majesties,” Tia said. “The Grey is glad to see you both returned and in good health.”

The queen did not smile at her, but she caught the beginning of a smirk at the corner of the king's mouth and pushed back against it with her best impression of a stern countenance.

There would be time for proper greetings later.

* * *

 

He swept her up and swung her in almost a full circle before setting her down and lowering his mouth to hers. It had been far, far too long since they were both in the same place together, out of the public eye and away from witnesses.

The others in the room with them did not count as witnesses. They were family.

She laughed when she could free herself long enough to catch some air. “Ali, did you just swoop?”

“No,” he said between more kisses. “Never. Maker, I missed you, Tia.”

"I missed you, too." She slid her hands up from his neck to cradle his face between them. "How was Kirkwall? I hear the weather's lovely this time of year."

“Yes, it seems I arrived just in time for the maleficars and abominations to come into season.”

“Oh, dear.” Tia frowned. “I hope you didn’t run into too many of those. I know you’re terribly allergic.”

There was a discreet cough behind her.

“Teagan managed to keep me out of trouble.” In a stage whisper, Alistair added, “Ruined all my fun, too.”

Tia flashed a grin over her shoulder. “Oh, but he’s always the life of the party. Still, it really wouldn’t do for you to have too much fun without me.”

This prompted a less discreet snort from the side of the room, which Tia answered with an even wider grin.

“Can’t have any fun without Oghren, either.”

“I did get to meet a few interesting people, though. Which reminds me—” Alistair leaned down to kiss her forehead. “—I brought you a present.”

He pulled away, letting his fingertips trail down her arms, before turning to the desk behind him.

“Ooh, did you bring me sweets?” Tia bounced on the tips of her toes, trying in vain to see over Alistair’s shoulder. “Or a new sword?”

“We all know he’s going to give her the _sword_ later,” Oghren muttered.

Teagan coughed a little louder this time.

After some shuffling and a muttered curse, Alistair turned around with slightly flushed cheeks and a book in his hands.

A very familiar book, right down to the bent lower left corner of the front cover: her well-loved copy of Varric Tethras’s _Hard in Hightown,_ the first volume.

“Hey!” Tia reached out for it, but he took a slight step back into the edge of his desk. “I’ve been looking everywhere for that. Did you accidentally grab the wrong copy when you left?”

She owned at least two copies of everything Tethras had ever published: one for herself, and one (or two, for the really good stuff) to lend out to anyone who showed even the mildest curiosity about her favorite author. Orzammar’s literature had little of interest to offer an only marginally literate duster like her, but once Leliana had introduced her to surfacer fiction, reading had become one of her chief pleasures.

And she guarded her personal library jealously.

“I’m afraid I owe you an apology,” Alistair said slowly. “I…got some ink on it.”

“You _what?”_

Even Oghren stopped fidgeting and went dead still.

Alistair shifted the book from one hand to the other. “Technically, I’m not the one who spilled the ink.” He cleared his throat. “You see, darling, I let someone else hold it for a minute…”

“Don’t ‘darling’ me.” Tia planted her fists on her hips. “I swear to the Maker, Ali, if you’ve ruined my book—”

“Well, you have to admit you’ve done some damage yourself.” He gestured to the cover. “There’s this corner here, and the spine is broken, and I notice you’ve dog-eared the pages of some of your favorite scenes…”

“That’s no excuse! You shouldn’t have even taken it in the first place.”

“Uh, oh,” Oghren said in a voice that was probably meant to be quieter than it was. “Maybe she’s not gonna let him give her the sword after all.”

The only sign Alistair gave that he heard Oghren’s comment was the further reddening of his face.

“Now, don’t be hasty. Take a look before you cast judgment.” He finally held the book out, and she snatched it out of his hands. “The ink stain is only on the title page, after all.”

Tia flipped open the cover, and her breath hitched. “You…you evil bastard.”

“Hey,” Alistair said in a wounded tone. “No need to hit below the belt.”

“I believe she only ever hits below the belt,” Teagan murmured.

“Humans. Always with the short jokes.”

Tia ignored them all.

“Ali,” she managed to squeak as she stared down at the page.

Just below the title, in a bold, looping script:

_To Tia:_

_Good luck on all your adventures._

_Varric Tethras_

“Am I forgiven, my love?”

“No.” Tia struggled to force her growing smile into a frown, but it ended up more of a pout. “I never forgive. And I never forget. You’re going to pay for this, Theirin.”

 “Alas, it’s true. I’ve never once known you to forgive a man for his crimes, no matter how petty. Just ask Zevran. Or Sten. Or…well, most of the Wardens you’ve collected at Vigil’s Keep.” Alistair let out a mournful sigh. “I suppose I’ll just have to accept my punishment manfully, then.”

 “You’d better.” She clutched his collar in her fist and pulled his face down to claim the first in another batch of kisses.

 


End file.
